


want. take. have.

by offbrandevan (sevensevan)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:08:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 9,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24190327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevensevan/pseuds/offbrandevan
Summary: An archive of all my fuffy prompt fills from tumblr. Ratings, side characters, themes, warnings, etc. vary chapter by chapter (as does quality). Any specific trigger warnings will be in chapter notes.
Relationships: Faith Lehane/Buffy Summers
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> like it says on the tin, just an archive for my prompt fills. read my fuffy multichapter, shadow of the day, if you haven't already. enjoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't remember the prompt for this; no warnings necessary.

“You shouldn’t do that,” Buffy says when Faith pulls away. Faith rolls her eyes, holding back a scoff. She stalks away and flicks a cursory glance over the cemetery around them.

“Why the hell not, B?” Faith snaps, shoving her hands in the pockets of her jacket. Buffy follows her, walking a few steps behind. Faith’s hands are twitching in her pockets. _God_ , she wants to kill something.

“Because I’m with Riley, now,” Buffy says, and this time, Faith does scoff.

“You don’t even _like_ him,” she says. “He’s an asshole _and_ stupid. You might as well date _Xander_.”

“That’s not—Riley’s not—don’t call Xander—.” Buffy takes a breath, gathering her thoughts. “I like Riley,” she manages. Faith shakes her head angrily, gritting her teeth so hard her jaw starts to hurt. She savors the pain, clenching and unclenching her fists in her pockets, digging her fingernails into her palms.

“Bullshit,” she says. She turns around and walks back towards Buffy. Buffy walks backwards, away from her, until her back hits the side of a crypt. Faith takes another step, putting herself firmly in Buffy’s space, their noses inches apart. “Look, _Buffy_ ,” Faith says, growling out Buffy’s full name. “If you don’t want me to kiss you, tell me to stop.” Buffy licks her lips nervously, her eyes flicking back and forth between Faith’s, but she says nothing. Faith grins savagely, angrily, in a way that she knows turns Buffy on. “That’s what I fuckin’ thought,” she says. She plants her hands against the wall of the crypt on either side of Buffy, her fingernails scraping against the stone, and takes another step, pressing their bodies together.

Faith kisses Buffy roughly, teeth and tongue and anger, and thinks _I bet Riley doesn’t kiss you like this_. Buffy grips Faith’s shirt under her jacket, her fingers twisting and stretching the fabric, and Faith wonders how much longer this can last before something snaps: Buffy, or Buffy and Riley, or Faith, and the ever-stretching strings she uses to hold everything she feels for Buffy down inside her.

(She’s pretty sure that, if Buffy keeps kissing her in graveyards, Faith is going to be the first thing to snap.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no warnings necessary; just fluff here.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Faith snorts in amusement, burying her smile in the kiss she presses to the top of Buffy’s head.

“Wedding’s over, B,” she mumbles. “You don’t have to say any more sappy love shit.” Buffy kisses Faith’s neck lazily from where her head is tucked into Faith’s shoulder.

“Shut up and don’t ruin the moment. I’m being romantic.” Faith happily obeys, pulling Buffy a little closer and gazing up at the fancy hotel room ceiling. A feeling has been creeping up on her since Buffy proposed to her six months ago. Her whole life, she’s felt like her soul is barely tethered to her body, ready to drift away at a moment’s notice. For the past few months, something else has been taking that feeling’s place: a sense of permanence, reality. Like, for the first time in her life, she’s firmly rooted in herself.

It’s a good feeling.

“I can’t believe you agreed to marry me,” Buffy says quietly.

“Not too late to get it annulled.”

“Shut _up_.” Faith laughs at the exasperation in Buffy’s tone, picking out the affection behind it and letting it warm her all over.

“I can’t believe I married you, either,” Faith says, before her courage abandons her. Six years and a wedding ring, and she’s still more afraid of Buffy than anything else in this world.

“Love you,” Buffy says. Faith hums quietly and shifts onto her side, wrapping herself even closer to Buffy.

(She doesn’t say it back. She rarely does. Partially because the words still scare her, but mostly because she doesn’t have to. Buffy knows.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more fluff!! apparently i only ever write happy stuff when it's in 300 word bursts on tumblr. prompt was admiration + in the snow.

“It’s so pretty.” Faith glances over at Buffy, who is staring up at the sky with a look of wonder on her face.

“It’s just snow, B,” Faith says. “Ain’t like you’ve never seen it before.”

“Yeah, but it’s _pretty_.” Buffy looks over at Faith, and Faith feels heat rising in her cheeks as their gazes meet, as she gets caught red-handed staring at Buffy. “Come on, even you can’t be jaded about snow. It’s, like, universally acknowledged to be pretty.” Faith slips her arm around Buffy’s shoulders, carefully ignoring the way Buffy tenses at her touch before relaxing.

“Don’t underestimate me.” She’s not being dramatic. Faith _hates_ snow. It reminds her of Boston, and there’s no good memories there. But…

She looks over at Buffy, who is now blinking rapidly and pouting because a snowflake fell in her eye. There’s a thin dusting of white gathering on Buffy’s shoulders, in her hair, on her eyelashes, and _yeah_ , Faith thinks, _I could learn to like the snow_.

On impulse, Faith leans over and kisses Buffy on the cheek. Buffy’s cold under lips, that pretty red flush failing to keep her skin warm.

“What was that for?” Buffy asks, leaning her head against Faith’s shoulder. Faith shrugs with her free arm.

 _I’m in love with you_ , is the answer that comes to her lips, but it’s not time for that yet, this thing between them is still so fragile, so _important_ , so instead she says, “You’re pretty. I was—admiring.” _Soon. I’ll tell her soon_. Buffy rolls her eyes and smiles.

“Admiring,” she says. “Okay, you dork.” It’s a testament to how bad Faith has it that she doesn’t even bother telling Buffy off for the insult. Instead, she tugs her coat up around her throat and looks at Buffy while Buffy looks at the sky.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> camp counselor au for dialogue prompt: "you're hot when you're angry". mild warning i guess for implied homophobia + warren being a character.

“Are you fucking _serious_?” Faith says, tightening her grip on Warren’s shirt. He shifts uncomfortably, but sticks out his chin, seemingly prepared to stand by his bullshit.

“Yeah, I’m serious!” he says. “He shouldn’t be doing that here. Not without his parents’ permission.”

“ _God_ , you fucking—” Faith uses her grip on his shirt to slam him into the wall of the cabin. His head makes a satisfying cracking noise against the wood, and he hisses in pain. “You sleazy piece of _shit_.” Faith pulls him back and slams him against the wall again. “He’s a fucking _kid_. He’s nine years old. Why is it your goddamn problem if he wants to wear eyeliner?”

“It’s—”

“Rhetorical question, asshole,” Faith snaps. She slams Warren against the side of the cabin one more time before letting go of his shirt and stepping away. Warren slumps to the ground, not quite unconscious but certainly suffering some mild head trauma. “You know what, I’m gonna tell Giles about this. He can deal with you.” Faith turns away, towards the path to the head cabin, and there’s Buffy.

Buffy Summers, good girl Buffy Summers, who, according to everyone else—campers and administration—hasn’t done a single thing wrong in her life. Faith’s said maybe three sentences to the girl since the beginning of summer, but she had decided within the first week, after hearing everyone else gush about her, that she doesn’t like Buffy.

“What?” Faith asks as Warren slumps over behind her, lying on the wet grass. “Got something to say?”

“Uh,” Buffy says. “Wow.” She looks back and forth between Faith and Warren’s semi-conscious form several times. “You’re, uh, you’re hot when you’re angry.” That…is _not_ what Faith had been expecting. Apparently it isn’t what Buffy had been expecting to say, either, because she blushes bright red as soon as the word leave her mouth. “I’ll walk with you to Giles’s cabin?” Buffy says quickly.

“Sure,” Faith says, in a moderate state of shock. “You gonna tell on me?” Buffy shakes her head as they start up the gravel path back to the main part of camp.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve been trying to get that guy fired since he got here,” she says. “He got what he deserved.”

“Definitely,” Faith says. Her tact is returning, and she shoots Buffy her most devilish grin. “So, I’m hot when I’m mad?” Buffy groans and covers her face with her hands.

“Oh, _God_ ,” she says, voice muffled. “Please don’t look at me.” Faith laughs, watching that red flush inch its way down Buffy’s neck.

It’s going to be a great summer.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> missing prompt; just a short angsty thing. no warnings needed.

“Oh,” Buffy says softly as her hands trace the scar on Faith’s stomach. It’s small, faded. Such are the benefits of Slayer healing. Still, it’s noticeable—the first thing most people’s eyes would fall to.

“Yeah,” Faith says, watching as Buffy traces the edges of the mark with her fingertips. “You ruined bikinis for me forever.” Buffy smiles slightly, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, which are still firmly fixed on the scar she had put there years ago.

“Does it still hurt?” she asks.

“Was years ago, B,” Faith says. Buffy notes the way her stomach flexes automatically beneath Buffy’s light touch. “More of a permanent hickey these days than anything.” Buffy’s hands still.

“That,” she says, “was the worst joke I’ve ever heard.” Faith’s teasing smile vanishes. “That’s not—” Buffy shakes her head emphatically. “That’s not what—”

“B.” Faith grabs Buffy’s hands, holding them still. “You good?” Buffy stares down at Faith’s stomach, at where the tips of her fingers are still brushing that awful scar. It’s rough beneath her fingertips, not smooth like the rest of Faith’s skin. Rough and discolored, raised from the flesh around it slightly.

(Buffy still remembers what it felt like to have Faith’s blood pouring out over her hands.)

“You and me,” Buffy says. “Me loving you, it’s not supposed to hurt.” Faith squeezes Buffy’s fingers gently.

“That ship’s sailed, B,” she says. Buffy leans down and presses her lips to the scar, as softly as she can physically manage. When she sits up again, Faith is smiling sadly. “Can’t erase the past.”

Buffy says nothing, just moves to kiss Faith. She knows she can’t change what she did, what they both did. _God_ , she knows that, but that won’t stop her from trying to overwrite it, to leave a new story imprinted on Faith’s body with her hands, her mouth, her love.

The marks from that night are gone by the morning. The scar will be there until the day Faith dies.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no warnings, prompt missing. just some post-chosen fuffy feelings.

“Is that my shirt?” Faith turns away from her frustration with the coffee machine at the sound of Buffy’s voice. She glances down at the t-shirt she’s wearing. It’s worn out and faded, but still proclaims _UC Sunnydale_ across the front in red letters.

“Not sure what else you expected me to wear, B,” Faith says with a shrug. “Not like I got any other clothes here.” She gestures around the kitchen, which is filled with new, fancy appliances that Willow had helped Buffy pick out when Buffy moved into this apartment the year before. Buffy blushes slightly.

“No, I, uh, I know,” she says. “I just…it looks good on you. That’s all.” It’s not a _lie_ , but it’s certainly not true in the objective sense. The shirt is too small for Faith, and it crawls up her stomach as she turns and reaches up into the cupboard to look for mugs.

“Yeah?” Faith says, grinning. She pulls down the mugs and turns back around, directing her smile at Buffy. Buffy turns a deeper shade of red. “You like what you see?”

“Shush.” Buffy steps past Faith and hits a few buttons the coffee machine with deft, pointed movements. Immediately, the machine hums to life, and the smell of coffee begins to fill the kitchen.

“I, um.” Faith swallows, her grin fading. “I like how I feel.” Buffy turns back around to look at Faith. She leans against the edge of the counter, resting her palms on its surface.

“In my shirt?” she asks. Faith shrugs.

“In your shirt,” she agrees. “In your apartment. In your life. Just—with you.” The words fall out in an awkward pile, and Faith clamps her mouth shut, holding a thousand more in. Buffy smiles at her.

“That’s good,” she says. “I, um…this place has never really felt like home, you know?”

“The apartment?”

“All of it,” Buffy says. “The apartment, the city, all of it. Sunnydale was home. Even when I hated it, Sunnydale was home. And then…” And then Sunnydale became a crater. Neither of them say it, but they both remember the image, and it makes Faith shiver. Buffy seems to have a similar reaction, as she lifts her hands from the counter and draws her arms around herself. “Anyways,” Buffy says. “You being here…it’s the first time I’ve ever woken up in that bed and not felt out of place.” Faith can’t resist anymore; she steps forward and draws Buffy into her arms. Buffy leans into the hug. She’s slumped down enough against the counter that her forehead rests on Faith’s collarbone, and Faith’s chin rests comfortably on the top of Buffy’s head. “I like how I feel with you, too,” Buffy says into Faith’s chest. “I like how the world feels when I’m next to you.” Faith, lost for words, just kisses the top of Buffy’s head.

It’s too soon to say it—their first kiss had been twelve hours ago, for Christ’s sake—but Faith’s brain is playing _I love you_ on repeat, and it takes everything she has to keep it inside.

The coffee machine dings, and Faith is silently grateful for the ruined moment. This thing with Buffy is new, new and fragile and precious, and she has a feeling that _I’ve been in love with you since we were seventeen and this is everything I’ve ever wanted in my whole damn life_ would be better left for the second date, rather than the morning after.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuffy + two miserable people meeting at a wedding au.

The woman beside Buffy does another shot—her fourth since Buffy had taken the seat beside her at the bar—and Buffy decides that, her business or not, it’s time to speak up.

“Don’t you think you should slow down a little?” she says, turning to face the woman. The woman sets down her shot glass, looks Buffy up and down, and snorts.

“Don’t you think you should mind your own business?” she says, gesturing at the bartender for another round. Her voice is low, rough, like rough cloth being drawn over wood.

“Not if you get drunk and puke on me,” Buffy says. The woman laughs. The bartender sets another round in front of the woman, but Buffy snatches it out from in front of her before she can take it.

“I can hold my liquor,” the woman says. She makes a gimme motion and grabs for the shot, but Buffy holds it further out of reach. The woman tilts forward on her barstool, falling out of balance and catching herself on the bar’s surface for support.

“Sure you can.” The woman groans as she rights herself.

“Whatever,” she mutters. “Friend of the bride?” Buffy nods. “Which one?”

“Willow.” Buffy glances across the room, to where Willow and Tara are still dancing, caught up in their own little world. Willow looks positively radiant today (due in no small part to Buffy’s help, which she will _absolutely_ take credit for); Tara as well, and both of them look indescribably happy.

Buffy is happy for them. She really is. They deserve this. She just…

“And you?” Buffy asks, shaking herself out of her head and looking back at the woman next to her.

“Ex foster sister of Tara’s,” the woman says. She holds out her hand. “I’m Faith.”

“I’m Buffy.” Buffy shakes Faith’s hand, noting the calluses and the well-trimmed nails. “Why are you trying to get blackout drunk at your foster sister’s wedding, Faith?”

“Why are _you_ sitting at the bar pretending to like club soda at your friend’s wedding, _Buffy_?” Despite herself, Buffy laughs.

“Probably the same reason as you,” she says. Faith’s sarcastic smirk slips right off her face.

“I don’t think so,” she mutters. Before Buffy can say anything, the bartender sets another shot down in front of Faith. Faith grabs it and taps the glass against the one that Buffy is still holding. “Cheers,” she says, and downs it. Buffy glances down at her own glass, thinks _what the hell_ , and throws her head back.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuffy soulmate au. no warnings needed.

“Hey, B?” Buffy glances over at Faith. Faith hesitates for a moment, then shakes her head. “Never mind,” she says, looking down and kicking at the grass.

“What’s up?” Buffy asks. Faith says nothing, and Buffy rolls her eyes. “Listen, if we don’t talk to each other we’re gonna be stuck here waiting for this guy to climb out of his grave all night. What’s up?”

“I just…is Angel your soulmate?” Faith says. Buffy blinks in surprise. “Not—that’s not the important bit. Can you see in color?”

“…no,” Buffy admits after a moment. “No, I—at first, I thought he was. But then we kissed and everything’s still…” She shrugs and gestures around them vaguely. “Why? Can you?” Faith snorts and shakes her head.

“Course not,” she says. “I don’t have a soulmate.”

“What?” Buffy asks incredulously. “Everyone has a soulmate. That’s how it works.”

“You don’t know that,” Faith says. “Most people never meet their soulmates, so how do we know everyone has one?” Buffy hesitates.

“I guess we don’t,” she says. “But—why would you think you don’t have one?” Faith looks away. “Faith?”

“Cause I don’t, alright?” Faith snaps. “I don’t—I don’t deserve—”

“Faith.” Buffy hops off the headstone she’s sitting on and walks over to Faith’s. She stands in front of her, forcing Faith to look at her. She wishes, now more than ever, that she could see in color. Faith is already beautiful in the nighttime; she can only imagine how much more beautiful she would be in color. “You have a soulmate. I know it.”

“No you don’t.” Faith is sounding more and more childish. She fixes her gaze somewhere over Buffy’s shoulder, refusing to look at her.

“Yes, I do,” Buffy says. “You know what? We’re going to find your soulmate.” Faith snorts derisively. “No, we are. I don’t care if you have to kiss everyone you meet, we’re going to find them.”

“Yeah? You wanna start now?” Faith is meeting Buffy’s gaze now, her eyebrows raised, her lips quirked into a provocative smile.

“Uh…what?” Buffy says, her brain short-circuiting.

“Let’s start now,” Faith repeats. “We can cross your name off the list. Just, y’know, six billion more to go.”

“Uh.” Buffy hesitates. She and Angel…she’s not sure what’s going on with them, really, and if it means helping Faith… “Okay.” Faith grins victoriously. Before Buffy can take a moment to prepare, she leans in and kisses her.

It’s a good kiss. Brief, more chaste than Buffy would expect from Faith of all people, but it makes her head spin, and by the time Faith is pulling back, Buffy is reconsidering her whole _firmly-heterosexua_ l stance.

Then Buffy opens her eyes, and the whole world explodes into color.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the dialogue prompt “wait. i didn’t mean that. please, come back". takes place in an au where the scoobies broke faith out of jail after buffy's death to act as sunnydale's slayer.

“This is a bad idea.” Faith slams the knife she’s sharpening down on the table between them, switching her focus from the repetitive, soothing motion of sharpening to glaring at Buffy.

“Yeah?” she snaps. “What’s _your_ plan? You got any better ideas, B?” Buffy looks away. “That’s what I thought.”

“I don’t—” Buffy clenches her fists on top of the table and unclenches them slowly, tensely. “I don’t _like_ this.”

“No one _likes_ it.” Faith picks her knife back up again, flipping it through her fingers. “Red’s one of us. But she’s dangerous right now, and either Xander gets her under control or…” She leaves the last words unsaid. Faith had been forced to explain earlier to Tara that she may have to kill Willow if she can’t get her magic under control.

Saying it out loud once was more than enough for her.

“It didn’t used to be like this,” Buffy says quietly, staring at the table. Her eyes have that hollow look in them again, the one that seems to have taken up residence there since the resurrection. “We used to be…a family.”

“Yeah, well, what’s a little homicide between friends?” Faith slips her knife into the sheath on her belt. Buffy looks up at her.

“What happened?” she asks, her voice hoarse. “What did you do to each other while I was in the ground?”

“You sayin’ it’s my fault?” Faith raises her eyebrows. “Red went crackhead all on her own.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you should’ve done something about it,” Buffy says. “You were here, you were _supposed_ to be their leader. You could’ve stopped her.”

“You know what?” Faith says, rising to her feet. “Fuck you.” She turns to leave, and makes it a few steps towards the door before Buffy speaks again.

“Wait. I didn’t mean that. Please, come back.” Faith looks over her shoulder. Buffy hasn’t moved, is still sitting at the table with her hands pressed against the tabletop and an anxious sort of emptiness in her eyes. Faith sighs, closing her eyes for a moment. The moment she opens them again, she’ll sit back down, because she could never say no to Buffy, and certainly not a version of Buffy who looks that _tired_. She wants one moment, one _solitary moment_ , of pulling her own goddamn strings.

“I don’t know what you want me to do, B,” Faith says as she sits back down. “Tara couldn’t stop her. Dawn couldn’t stop her. Xander’s gonna try, but…” She shrugs. “I don’t know what to _do_.”

Buffy says nothing; she doesn’t know what to do, either. But she does reach across the table and cover one of Faith’s hands with her own.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for dialogue prompt "Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?". no warnings needed.

Buffy’s friends throw a party for her.

Intellectually, Buffy knows that this is not surprising. It’s her senior year, she’s the soccer team captain, and she led her team to state championships, not to mention that these are the same friends who have, in the past, thrown a “Willow’s coming out” party, a “We already knew Faith is gay, but now she wants a party” party, a “Giles has a girlfriend” party, and a “Halfway through the first month of senior year” party. Of course they would throw a party for Buffy’s very real, actually important achievement.

That doesn’t stop Buffy from breaking down crying in the middle of a scrabble game, when she remembers for the fifteenth time that night that _this_ —the streamers haphazardly strung across her living room, the board games half-finished and abandoned across the floor, the empty pizza boxes on the coffee table, the movie on in the background—is all for _her_.

Faith takes her into the kitchen and gets her a glass of water. Buffy is still crying, though the earlier, gasping sobs of joy have faded. Buffy takes the water gratefully, ignoring the familiar pang in her chest that their hands brushing sets off. Her crush on Faith is old news—to everyone but Faith, but old news all the same. It’s comfortable now, the way Buffy wakes up in the morning and thinks about seeing Faith, the way she stays up late texting Faith and grinning at her phone like a lunatic.

“You good, B?” Faith asks, crossing her arms and leaning her hip against the edge of the counter. Buffy nods, sipping the water and wiping at her eyes.

“I just—” She shakes her head. “I’m really, really lucky, you know?” Faith looks back in the direction of the living room, though they can’t see it from here. Just then, a swell of laughter goes up, accompanied by Willow yelling “ _Xander_!” and Giles saying something unintelligible in his usual Xander voice—a mix of exasperation and affection.

“I know,” Faith says, turning her attention back to Buffy. “We both are.” She reaches out, pushing a strand of Buffy’s hair out of her face, and suddenly, Buffy can’t take it anymore.

“Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?” Buffy says, unable to stop herself. Faith’s eyes light up.

“ _Definitely_ ,” she says, and before she can lose her nerve, Buffy steps forward, leans up, and kisses her.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> missing prompt; set in a season four where Nothing Bad Happened in s3 and faith and buffy are in love and living together. just fluff.

“Seven to six,” Faith announces as she digs her knife into the bark of a tree to remove her crossbow bolt. “I win. You’re doing my chores for the next week.” Buffy groans with exaggerated frustration.

“Do I _have_ to?” she says, slipping her stake back up the sleeve of her—formerly Faith’s—leather jacket.

“Yes.” Faith rips the bolt out of the tree and slips it back into the small quiver on her hip. “That was the deal. I killed more vamps, and _I’m_ not gonna wash the dishes after Scooby dinner on Friday.” Buffy rolls her eyes. She steps over to Faith, catching the edges of Faith’s jacket and using them to pull her closer.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Buffy says. Faith grins at her, resting her forehead against Buffy’s.

“Oh, am I?” she says.

“Shush.” Buffy kisses her. “I’m not gonna feed your ego. It’s big enough as it is.” Faith grins. She takes a half step forwards, leaning Buffy back into a comical dip and kissing her again. Buffy starts to laugh against her lips, and Faith pulls her back to her feet, kissing her nose and then her forehead for good measure.

“Tell you what,” Faith says, catching Buffy’s hand as they pull apart to begin the walk back to their apartment. “I’ll do the dishes…if you race me back home and win.” With that, she takes off across the cemetery, Slayer speed kicking in as the ground begins to blur beneath her feet.

“ _Hey_!” Buffy shouts from behind her, but Faith just laughs, vaulting over a tombstone without slowing. Behind her, she can hear Buffy beginning to give chase, and she slows just a bit, just enough to let Buffy start to close the gap between them.

It’s no fun if they don’t both have a fighting chance.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dialogue prompt: "i never meant to hurt you". warning in the end notes bc it would be spoiler-y. if you can even have spoilers for a 300 word prompt fic.

“I never meant to hurt you.”

It’s the first thing Faith thinks to say. She’s been sitting here for awhile—ten, twenty minutes maybe, long enough for her hair to heat up in the sun, warm against her back through her tank top.

“Stupid, huh,” Faith mumbles, looking down at her lap. She fidgets with the switchblade she always carries in her pocket, flicking the blade out and spinning it through her fingers. “Didn’t really _mean_ to hurt anyone.” She catches the blade’s handle and flicks it in and out rapidly, watching the steel flicker back and forth like a sharpened snake’s tongue.

“I’m not gonna apologize to you,” Faith says. She puts her blade away and looks back up at her silent audience. “Doesn’t matter now, obviously, but even if it did, I still wouldn’t. We’re past that, huh? You know me better than that.” Buffy does not respond. “I’m not gonna apologize. I’m just gonna do better. That means a lot more, doesn’t it?” Faith can hear footsteps approaching, so she hurries to say what she came here to say.

“You don’t have to worry, B. You don’t have to worry about a thing. I’ll take care of it all. I’ll keep Dawn safe. I’ll keep Xander in line. I’ll keep Willow from losing it. I’ll keep ‘em together, Buffy, so you don’t have to worry.” She reaches out, pressing her fingers to the hyphen that separates the two years on the headstone. “You just rest. That’s all you gotta do now. Rest.”

“Faith,” Giles says as he approaches from the stone path through the graveyard. “Are you ready to go?”

“Sure.” Faith stands, stretches, and turns away from Buffy’s grave. Giles very carefully keeps his eyes on her, not looking past her to the headstone, to the reminder that Buffy is dead. “I like the epitaph,” Faith says, as they begin to walk back up the path towards the road. “ _She saved the world a lot_. Cute. Who came up with it?”

“Xander did.” Giles smiles slightly, though it’s pained. “We all agreed it was fitting.”

“Not like the world’s gonna remember what she did,” Faith says, shoving her hands in her pockets. “At least you guys gave her something to show for it.”

“We have the whole world to show for Buffy’s actions, Faith,” Giles says. “I’d like to think Buffy would think that’s enough.” Faith considers it for a moment.

“She probably would,” she says. “Stupid selfless asshole.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: major character death


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dialogue prompt: "don't you dare pin this on me!" partners in crime au, no warnings needed.

“You’re so—” Buffy cuts herself off, shaking her head roughly. She tries again to thread the needle she’s holding, but misses the eyelet for what feels like the tenth time.

“So _what_ , B?” Faith asks, her voice quiet and rough. Half-delirious, Buffy notes in a forcibly detached sort of way. Faith has lost so much blood in the last hour that she’s speaking with the kind of awkward, forced articulation that comes from paying too much attention to trying not to slur.

“Stupid,” Buffy snaps. She finally manages to get the thread through the needle. “ _Why_ did you go back? You knew there was no way you were getting out.”

“I’m out, aren’t I?” Faith says, waving an arm vaguely.

“Barely.” Buffy lifts the bloody towel off the bullet wound in Faith’s leg. They’d cleaned and sterilized it, and now Faith is lying in the bathtub of their shitty motel room, bleeding out unless Buffy can stitch her up quickly enough.

“You needed the score,” Faith says as Buffy slips the needle under her skin. “And you needed to make it home to Dawn.”

“Don’t you _dare_ pin this on me,” Buffy says, keeping her eyes fixed on her work.

“I’m not.” Faith is smiling slightly; Buffy can see it in her peripheral vision. “I don’t have anyone to be comin’ home to. Pretty simple math, when you think about it.”

“You dropped out,” Buffy says. “You don’t know how to do math.” That makes Faith laugh, which is dangerous for Buffy’s concentration—both because Faith moves slightly, and because the butterflies the sound sets off in Buffy’s stomach make her hands shake.

“I’m serious,” Buffy says later, when the stitches are done and she’s wrapping Faith’s leg in a bandage. “You can’t—don’t ever do something like that again. No score is worth your life, Faith.”

“No,” Faith says. “But you are.” Buffy doesn’t— _can’t_ —answer that. She already has bounties on her head in sixteen countries; she can’t afford to fall in love with her absolute _idiot_ of a partner. It’d simply be too much to deal with all at once.

(Even if said partner is beautiful, and loyal, and brave, and maybe the most talented criminal Buffy has ever met. Even if Buffy is half in love with her already.)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuffy soulmate au where you have your enemy's name on one wrist and your soulmate's on the other, but you don't which is which. no warnings, just angst.

“Hey, Faith?” Buffy says. They’re in the library, pulling double-duty on the werewolf watch. Oz has been getting more aggressive lately, and while one Slayer would probably be enough to handle an escaped werewolf, two _definitely_ is.

“Yeah, B?” Faith looks up from…whatever she’s doing on a scrap of paper, Buffy isn’t really sure. It can’t be homework; Faith doesn’t even go to school—not that one would know that from how much time she spends in the Sunnydale High library.

“Why do you cover your tattoos?” The tip of Faith’s pencil breaks against the paper. She sets it aside and turns to look at Buffy.

“Why do you cover yours?” Faith says instead of answering, nodding at the bracelet on Buffy’s left wrist. “The one of ‘em, anyway.”

“Because I know which is which,” Buffy says. She holds out her right arm, showing off the name on the wrist. “This one’s the enemy. _Glorificus_ is some ancient hell god or something. Hell god, Slayer…” Buffy makes a staking motion with one hand, and Faith nods.

“No big secret,” she says. “So the other one’s the soulmate? Who is it?”

“ _Faith_ ,” Buffy says, flushing slightly. “You can’t ask that.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Faith says, rolling her eyes. “It’s probably Angel, right?” Buffy looks away.

“No,” she says. “No, it’s not—vampires don’t have soulmates.”

“Even vampires with souls?” Buffy shakes her head, and Faith lets the subject of Angel go. “So then who?” Buffy is silent, and Faith pleads, “Come _on_ , it’s probably some schmuck you haven’t even met yet. You can at least tell me his name!”

“I’ve met them,” Buffy mumbles, and if Faith picks up on the neutral pronoun, she doesn’t get the chance to say anything about it, as a particularly loud roar from the werewolf in the book cage draws their attention.

It’s a lucky distraction for Buffy, because she’s not a particularly good liar where Faith is concerned, and underneath the bracelet on her left wrist, the name _Faith Lehane_ is tattooed in a messy scrawl.

(Months later, when Faith is lying in a coma in a hospital bed and Buffy is wondering if maybe she has it all wrong, if she’s supposed to fall in love with a hell god someday and the way Faith makes her heart skip and her hands shake is all in her head, Buffy will pull Faith’s bracelets off and discover the name _Buffy Summers_ on—not one— _both_ of Faith’s wrists.)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soulmate au where every lie your soulmate tells you appears on your skin. set in s3 right after faith kills finch.

“I don’t _care_ ,” Faith says, turning to face Buffy in the doorway of the motel room. Buffy feels a familiar burning sensation on her left arm, tingling beneath the sleeve of her jacket.

“Faith,” Buffy says quietly.

“I _don’t_ ,” Faith repeats, and the burning on Buffy’s arm intensifies, redoubles.

“You can’t lie to me.” Buffy steps into the room, and Faith takes a step back. Buffy can see her trembling from five feet away.

“Shut up.” Faith crosses her arms, which are covered in fading marks from the months she’s been in Sunnydale. Buffy may not be able to lie to Faith, but it’s a hard habit to break, and there are dozens of words burned onto Faith’s arms.

“I’m on your side,” Buffy says. Faith looks down at her arms, waiting for the words to burn their way across her skin, but they don’t appear. “We can figure this out.” She steps closer, reaching out and taking one of Faith’s hands. “Together.”

“How are we supposed to—” Faith shakes her head. “It’s like you said, B. I killed someone.”

“Yeah.” Buffy squeezes Faith’s hand gently. “But it was an accident, and we’re—we’re together. No matter what happens, we’re together, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Okay,” Faith says. “Okay, I trust you.”

Buffy pretends not to notice the way her right arm begins to burn at the words. She doubts Faith even knows she’s lying, after all.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt missing. au where buffy isn't with faith when she kills finch.

“Is she asleep?” Faith is very much _not_ asleep, but she keeps her eyes closed anyway, curious as to what will follow that question.

“I think so,” Buffy says. Her hand has been moving through Faith’s hair for the past twenty minutes, since Faith came into her room with blood on her hands and tears in her eyes.

“What happened?” Joyce says. Buffy’s hand pauses in Faith’s hair, and Faith waits to hear her say it— _she killed someone_.

It was all Faith had been able to say. Buffy had led her into the bathroom, washed the blood off her hands and out from under her nails, and held Faith as she cried. _I killed him_ , Faith had said, over and over. _I killed him_.

“Just Slaying,” Buffy lies, her hand resuming its gentle movements. “It—it gets rough, sometimes.”

“Oh.” Joyce is quiet for a moment, and Faith struggles to keep her eyes closed, keep the facade of sleep up. “I hope she feels better,” Joyce says. “I’ll make pancakes in the morning, do you think she would like that?”

“I think Faith would love pancakes,” Buffy says, and Faith can _picture_ her tired, kind smile. “Thanks, Mom.” Joyce’s footsteps move off down the hall.

Suddenly, Buffy’s lips are on Faith’s forehead. It’s brief, so light Faith almost thinks she imagined it, but then Buffy exhales and Faith feels the breath on her face.

“I don’t know what to do,” Buffy says to the empty room. “I don’t know what to—” She stops, pulling Faith’s head a little farther into her lap. Even with leftover adrenaline still in her veins, Faith feels safer here, in Buffy’s room, in her arms, than she ever has anywhere else.

Faith doesn’t pray anymore, but she takes a moment to hope against hope that the feeling isn’t temporary.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> missing prompt; fluffy morning after fic.

“Good morning,” Buffy says. They’ve both been awake for awhile. Buffy has an arm thrown across Faith’s hips, their legs tangled together.

“Morning,” Faith says. Buffy shifts beside her, widening the distance between them so she can look more clearly at Faith.

“How are you feeling?” Buffy asks. It’s a bit of a strange question to ask, maybe, but it’s exactly the one Faith needs to hear. Faith turns and looks at Buffy, considering it for a moment.

“I don’t know,” she says. “Good. Weird. Happy.” She makes a face. “I think the happy _is_ the weird.”

“Yeah?” Buffy says, clearly pushing for more.

“It’s just…never been like that before,” Faith says.

“Get some, get gone, and all that?” Buffy asks, and Faith rolls her eyes at the sound of her own catchphrase.

“Till you,” she says, and leans in for a kiss. “That’s different, too,” she says after she pulls away. Buffy makes a confused face at her. “The…waking up next to you,” Faith explains, “and not feelin’ trapped. I don’t even want to get up, let alone run away.”

“I don’t wanna get up, either,” Buffy says, crawling back on top of Faith. “I can think of better things to do with the morning.”

Faith is laughing while Buffy kisses her way down her neck, and the buzzing warmth in her chest starts to settle. Gone is the shaky, nervous intensity of the night before, replaced with joy—pure, unprecedented joy.

It’s a feeling Faith is hoping to get used to.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: fuffy + deserted gas stations at 2 am. wishverse!fuffy snippet.

“Spicy pork rinds? Seriously, Faith?” Faith looks up from her spoils of war—a plastic grocery bag full of candy bars, bags of chips, and other junk food packages, won from the sagging shelves of an abandoned gas station just outside the California town they’ve been told to try to save. Or at least, that Buffy has been told to save. The Watchers aren’t aware of Faith’s presence just yet.

“They’re good,” Faith says, adding the package to her bag.

“They’re disgusting,” Buffy says, shaking her head. “Do you know how much saturated fat—” She cuts herself off, but Faith is already grinning.

“Saturated fat,” she echoes mockingly. “Your blonde is showing.” Buffy looks away, shoving her own grocery bag—full of granola bars and various canned fruits—into her backpack.

“Shut up,” she says, shouldering her pack. “We need to keep moving. Sun’s almost down.” Faith packs up her things silently, ignoring her desire to keep needling, keep pressing. It’s not a malicious urge; she doesn’t want to make fun of Buffy. She likes Buffy—maybe more than she should, in a world where they’re both likely to die in the next few weeks at any given time. Faith just wants to know more about her. Buffy is so quiet, repressed, serious—the perfect child soldier, the obedient tool the Watchers’ Council had made her.

(Except, of course, when it comes to helping Faith.)

Sometimes, though, Faith will see flashes of something else. Buffy will crack a rare joke while killing a vampire, or shoplift hair products for Faith that somehow work perfectly, or spend a few too many moments gazing through the windows of a shop at certain dresses—even make a comment like the one she’s just made. In war, to soldiers, calories are just calories, saturated fat be damned. And this Buffy, the one Faith knows, is a soldier.

But the Buffy underneath, the one who Faith keeps catching glimpses of, the one she desperately wants to get to know, she’s something else entirely—and Faith wants to know what.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> setting prompt: buffy/faith + basketball court on a block with a bunch of ratty apartment buildings.

Faith is sitting on top of the backboard of the basketball hoop when Buffy arrives.

She climbs up there because Buffy is late—not just ten or twenty minutes, not fashionably late, but an hour and a half late. Buffy texts her the whole time, of course, apologizing profusely for everything, giving excuses—a late train from school, a flirty Uber driver. Faith doesn’t reply to any of them. Instead, she scares off the middle schoolers playing basketball with a glare and climbs up the basketball hoop to wait.

Buffy stands near the three point line that someone chalked into the pavement after the last time it rained. She’s still wearing her school uniform, sleeves rolled to her elbows in the June heat. Her messenger bag is slung over her shoulder, and her hair is blowing in the wind.

To Faith, she has never looked so beautiful, nor so unfamiliar.

“Hi, Faith,” Buffy says. Faith inclines her head.

“Buffy.” Buffy looks around uncomfortably. She doesn’t belong here anymore; any idiot could see that. The pristine private school uniform, the light, tasteful makeup—even her sneakers, with clean white laces and soles that are still fully attached, seem out of place.

But then, Buffy has never belonged here. She had only ever visited, for Faith’s sake, and now Faith isn’t enough to keep her here.

“Could you come down, please?” Buffy says. “I’d like to have this conversation face to face.”

“Face,” Faith says, gesturing at her own. “Face.” She points at Buffy. “Talk.” Buffy sighs unhappily, but doesn’t argue. That pisses Faith off even more than if she had. Buffy always argues. It’s part of why Faith likes her so much.

“This isn’t about you,” Buffy says. “It’s a really good school, and they’re offering me a full scholarship. I can’t say no to that.”

“A really good _boarding_ school,” Faith points out, “in another state.” Buffy exhales softly.

“This isn’t easy for me, either,” she says. She’s trying to be gentle, and Faith hates that more than anything. “I don’t want to leave, but this is an incredible opportunity for me. Can’t you understand that?” Faith says nothing, and Buffy’s face begins to turn angry. Some part of Faith is glad—if her last memory of Buffy is Buffy yelling at her, maybe it will be easier for Faith to hate her.

(It probably won’t work. Buffy is beautiful when she’s angry.)

“Can’t you just be happy for me?” Buffy says, her voice growing louder. “This could change my life! I could go to whatever college I wanted, maybe go to grad school. I could get so far. Just think about someone other than yourself for once, and be happy that I get to do this!” Faith says nothing for a long moment, staring down at her shoes on the rim of the basketball hoop. Her shoelaces are dirty; one is almost broken.

“Not great at that, B,” she says, keeping her eyes down. “You knew I wasn’t a good person getting into this.”

“You’re not a bad person, you’re just—” Buffy stops herself and shakes her head. “I’ll call you?” she offers instead, her voice becoming gentle once more.

“Go back to Vermont, Buffy,” Faith says, finally looking up. “Don’t bother calling. You want your great life so much? Have it. Don’t let me hold you back.” Buffy looks as though she’s about to argue, but again, she stops herself. Instead, she turns and walks away, back up the street.

Faith sits on the backboard and watches Buffy leave. She doesn’t turn around, doesn’t look back. She doesn’t even hesitate.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one word prompt: fuffy + empty. no warnings needed.

Buffy empties out Faith’s apartment after she puts her in the hospital.

At first, a sense of trepidation stops her from venturing near it. It’s Mayor territory, and even if the Mayor himself is a pile of ash and barbecued snake in the ruins of Sunnydale High School, he probably has followers still wandering around.

Eventually, though, curiosity wins out. Buffy goes and finds the apartment, following the vague _sense_ that’s always linked her to the other Slayer. She brings an empty garbage bag, planning to bag up Faith’s stuff and…donate it? Store it? Put it in the corner of Faith’s hospital room? Buffy doesn’t know yet.

She’s expecting weapons, torture devices, maybe a collection of horror movies or something. She’s expecting the apartment to be inhabited by the ghost of the monster who Buffy stabbed on that rooftop.

Instead, she finds comic books. Stacks of comic books, worn and dog-eared. A TV, gaming consoles, video games. The closet is full of unworn clothes with the tags still on—either stolen or gifts from the Mayor, Buffy assumes—and the floor has about three outfits’ worth of old, beaten up clothing strewn across it, mostly black tank tops and leather pants. The same clothes Faith had worn for months, in that shitty motel room and presumably on the way across the country from Boston.

Buffy sits down slowly on the foot of the bed—unmade. She picks up the comic book sitting next to her, like it had been tossed there the morning before Buffy nearly—practically—killed Faith. She flips through it absently, not really reading, or even looking at the pictures. She’s trying to picture Faith, instead: Faith who was her friend for a few too-brief months, Faith who killed Allan Finch in an alleyway, Faith who tried to kill _her_.

Faith, who reads comic books and likes video games. Buffy had never known that about her.

When Buffy leaves the apartment, her trash bag is still empty. She can’t bring herself to bag up and throw away Faith’s things. Not when they belonged to a part of Faith that Buffy never got to touch.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: anything from wishverse!fuffy. no warnings apply. set in a future wishverse where everything is somehow even worse.

Buffy is searching the bathroom cabinet for painkillers when the other girl comes flying out from behind the shower curtain with a knife.

She’s been running low on medical supplies since she left Sunnydale to the mercy of the Master and his automated blood assembly line, and she took the risk of entering the seething mass of demons and vampires that is L.A. these days to resupply, figuring that, since the sun is up and out, she’ll be able to fight off whatever threats brave the day. This particular threat, however, doesn’t seem to be vampiric or demonic, at least judging by appearances.

“Die, you fuckin’ bloodsucker,” the other girl hisses as she brings the knife down towards Buffy’s head. Buffy dodges the blow, and the blade shatters the bathroom sink.

“You calling _me_ a vampire?” Buffy asks, catching the girl’s wrist easily and wrenching it sideways. The knife clatters to the floor, and the girl glares at her with unconcealed rage. Buffy takes half a second to take in her appearance: pretty, unkempt, but without any scars beneath the dust and sweat on her face. Between the lack of marks, the Boston accent, and the fact that she doesn’t recognize Buffy on sight…

“You’re new here,” Buffy says, twisting the other girl’s wrist a bit farther when she tries to wrench free. “You haven’t been on the west coast long. What the fuck is wrong with you? Why’d you come out here?” It’s hardly _safe_ out east—nowhere in North America really is, at this point—but there are curfews, patrols, military units and governments still in power. Everything west of the Rocky Mountains is just…

“I’m a vampire slayer,” the girl says, still glaring at Buffy. “There’s vampires out here.” Buffy snorts.

“A vampire slayer,” she repeats. “Just felt like hopping a few military barricades to play dress up for a couple days and then get yourself killed?” The girl doesn’t answer her, and Buffy rolls her eyes. “Look,” she says. “I won’t kill you. I don’t like killing humans. I know a group of survivors who are heading east in a couple days, trying to get out. I can take you to them, and you can go home.” The girl shakes her head firmly.

“No,” she says. “I’m supposed to be out here.” Buffy sighs heavily.

“You're not,” she says. “You might be a vampire slayer, but I’m _the_ Slayer. Capital S. So anything you think you can do, I can promise you I’m already doing.” Something has shifted on the other girl’s face, her glare turning curious.

“ _The_ Slayer?” she repeats. “You’re her? You’re Buffy?” Buffy’s grip tightens on the other girl’s wrist. She has a reputation amongst survivors, sure, but they all know her by appearance as the crazy blonde chick. Almost no one knows her name, let alone that she’s a Slayer.

“Who the hell are you?” she demands, squeezing the other girl’s wrist tight enough that she feels bones grinding together inside of it. The girl doesn’t even flinch, which sparks grudging respect for her in Buffy’s chest.

“I’m Faith,” she says. “My Watcher sent me out here to help you. I’m next in line to be the Slayer.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: fuffy + "every time we kiss". regular high school au.

“You’re still hanging out with her, huh?” Willow says as they step out of the front doors of Sunnydale High School into the bright afternoon sunlight and see Faith waiting in the parking lot, leaning against her car. Buffy shoots Willow an amused look, raising her eyebrows.

“ _Hanging out_?” she repeats, and Willow blushes slightly.

“Well, what do you want me to call it?” she asks defensively. “You’re not dating.” They start to descend the front steps, and Faith spots them in the crowd of high schoolers. She grins and waves, and Buffy waves back, feeling a familiar, shy smile form on her face.

“Look, Wil,” Buffy says, turning to her friend, “you don’t like her, I know. But I really, really do, okay?”

“It’s not that I don’t like her,” Willow says, looking at the ground. “She’s—well, she’s funny. Sometimes. I just—I just worry. We’re leaving for college in five months, and I don’t want you to do anything rash.”

“You think I’d stay here for her?” Buffy asks, stopping in her tracks and turning to look at Willow. Willow shrugs.

“Wouldn’t you?” Buffy considers that for a long moment, pictures Faith turning to look at her from the driver’s seat of her car and saying _please stay_.

“I don’t know if I would,” Buffy says eventually. “I guess we’ll find out if she asks me to.”

“Buffy,” Willow says, frowning deeply. “You can’t throw your dreams away for Faith.”

“I know that.” Buffy kicks at the pavement. “I just—I can’t help it, Wil. Every time we kiss, it’s like the only real thing that’s ever happened to me in my whole life.” Willow gives her an almost pitying look.

“If she tries to get you to stay, tell me,” she says. “I’ll beat her up for you.” Despite herself, Buffy laughs.

“Thanks, Willow,” she says. “Now, I gotta go meet my—I have to meet Faith, and you probably have genius-kid homework to do. I’ll see you later.” Willow echoes the farewell, and Buffy heads off, into the parking lot, where Faith is waiting for her, smiling like nothing in the world could ever come between them.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: it's the 1800s and buffy and faith are having a secret affair. no warnings needed.

“You’re going to go through with this,” Faith says. It isn’t a question, but Buffy nods anyway. She stares down at her lap, where her hands are folded, resting on top of her skirt. Not for the first time, she envies the way Faith dresses so easily in mens’ clothing—like a woman in trousers is perfectly normal.

Although, the large knife that Faith carries around at the belt of those trousers probably makes things easier.

“It will make my mother happy,” Buffy says, still staring down at her hands. She can’t look at Faith right now, can’t bear to see her face.

“You deserve better than living to please someone else,” Faith says firmly, and Buffy closes her eyes, as if to place a barrier between Faith’s truths and herself.

“He’s a very rich man, Faith,” she says, toneless. “My mother will grow old in dignity, and our children will be safe and educated.”

“Your _children_ ,” Faith scoffs. “And what about everyone else’s children? Are you abandoning everything we believe in, all of the changes we planned to fight for, so that your children can learn Latin in their free time?”

“Faith…” Buffy opens her eyes again, digging her nails into the fabric of her skirt. “I’m very lucky that a man like Angel wants to marry me. I would be a fool not to take this opportunity.” She finally looks up at Faith, and immediately regrets the decision. Faith’s eyes are _burning_ , her jaw clenched in a frown. “I still have my beliefs,” Buffy says softly. “I just…can’t live them. This is the best chance I have. This is the best life I can choose.” Faith glares at her for a long moment, and it hurts something deep inside of Buffy, to think that this will likely be the last image of Faith she gets: disappointment and anger and salt in her voice.

“No,” Faith says finally. “It isn’t. You’re just too much of a _coward_ to choose anything else.”

There’s a quiet knock at the door, and Willow’s voice from the outside, saying “Time is up, miss. Angel will be here soon.”

Faith stands up from her chair, and Buffy rises with her. Buffy’s hands lift slightly from her sides by reflex, reaching out for Faith as she always does, but Buffy stops them before they get very far. Faith reaches out instead, one hand settling where Buffy’s shoulder meets her neck, thumb stroking over her collarbone. Faith pulls Buffy into a kiss, and it’s devastatingly gentle.

Faith kisses her like she did three years ago, when they first met, and Buffy’s ribs ache with the effort to keep everything she wants to say inside. It goes on forever, and then Faith steps back, eyes still burning.

“Faith—”

By the time Buffy manages to say her name, Faith has already slipped out the door. Willow steps into the room only a minute after Faith has left, looking at Buffy with wide, pitying eyes.

“Miss—” she begins, but Buffy cuts her off.

“Tell Angel I’m not feeling well,” she says. “I’ll speak with him tomorrow.”

“Buffy…” Willow bites her lip, glancing over her shoulder at the door that Faith had walked out of Buffy’s life through.

“It’s alright, Wil,” Buffy says, ignoring the tears pushing at the backs of her eyes. “I feel a little under the weather, is all.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt was a bunch of old rock songs, and they spiraled into a fuffy daybreak au. if you haven’t watched daybreak a) watch it b) it’s like more or less a zombie (Ghoulie) apocalypse in which only teenagers survived and now a bunch of high school cliques have turned into a vaguely feudalistic society where each clique has control over a certain amount of territory. the cheermazons are basically just a girl gang. enjoy

“You know, if you would just join the Cheermazons, this would be a lot easier,” Buffy says when Faith stops kissing her long enough to pull her through the doors of the mall and lock them behind her.

“I don’t join shit, B,” she says, taking Buffy’s hand and leading her off to the side, towards the American Eagle, which is unofficially Faith’s room—at least, in the sense that none of the other mall rats are stupid enough to go in there. “You know that.”

“But it would be so much easier if you _did_ ,” Buffy says, rolling her eyes at the back of Faith’s head. “I can even let you skip the tryouts! We could initiate you tomorrow!”

“You can’t tell me you don’t like sneaking around,” Faith says, tugging Buffy into the American Eagle and behind a rack of flannel shirts.

“I don’t like having to hide from hordes of Ghoulies every time I want to kiss my girlfriend,” Buffy says, pouting even as Faith pulls her into her arms. “Besides, Dawn can only make excuses for me back at the compound for so long.” Faith sighs deeply. This isn’t the first time they’ve had this argument, but Buffy can’t help but push her point.

“I don’t trust the Cheermazons,” Faith says firmly. Buffy can _feel_ Faith closing herself off, as she always does when they talk about this, but she keeps pushing anyway.

“But you trust me,” she says. “I can keep you safe if you join up.” Faith’s eyes flash.

“I can keep my own damn self safe,” she says, tapping the hilt of the samurai sword on her belt pointedly. Buffy tries a different tack.

“I just want you close to me,” she says. Faith shrugs.

“If that’s all, you could move in here,” she says. Buffy raises an eyebrow.

“Move into the mall?” she asks.

“Why the hell not?” Faith gestures around. “We’ve got air conditioning, vending machines, indoor plumbing, the whole nine yards. Or are you too good for us mall rat outcasts?”

“I’m not _too good_ ,” Buffy says. “I just…”

“You just like your gig with the Cheermazons better,” Faith says. “Not because they’re better than us. Because you’re in charge there.” Buffy can’t respond to that. She doesn’t _want_ it to be true, but it feels like it might be—and it’s just like Faith to make Buffy look at the ugly truth of what she’s doing. “You’re not in charge of me, B,” Faith says, “and you aren’t going to be.” She steps back, putting a few feet of space between herself and Buffy. “Maybe you should go.”

Defeated, Buffy steps back as well, headed back to the Cheermazon compound—the only part of the world left that she gets any say in.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wishverse!fuffy, no warnings apply.

“ _Christ_ , B,” Faith whispers the moment the vampires are gone. “The hell did you do that for?” Buffy smiles at her and spits out a mouthful of blood.

“You,” she says. She coughs, an awful, scraping sound, and fresh blood stains her teeth.

“Well, that’s _stupid_ ,” Faith says. Buffy laughs, then groans, clutching at her side. Faith looks down, but can’t see a wound anywhere. “My ribs,” Buffy explains through gritted teeth. “One of the vamps stomped on them before I got away. Must’ve punctured a lung.”

“Punctured a—” Faith shakes her head, her mouth going dry from fear. “What do we do about that?”

“Find me somewhere safe to lie down and pray the Slayer healing can work miracles.” Faith nods quickly. She pulls Buffy into her arms and stands up, her heart clenching in sympathy at Buffy’s pained whimper. She starts moving up the street, sticking to the shadows by the buildings, headed for the motel room that they’ve fortified to the point that it’s more of a castle.

“You’re a fuckin’ idiot, you know that?” Faith says, glancing down at Buffy in her arms. Buffy’s eyes are screwed shut in agony, but she manages a grin at Faith’s words all the same. “There were _fourteen_ vamps in that warehouse with me. You shoulda just lit the damn thing on fire.”

“You were in there,” Buffy murmurs.

“I ain’t worth dying for, B.” Faith spots a figure up the street. She can’t tell if it’s human or vampire from this distance, but she ducks into a nearby alley to hide regardless.

“Yeah, you are,” Buffy says. Faith glances down at her, frowning in confusion. Buffy’s eyes are open now, glazed over and delirious with pain. “You’re worth it.”

“And you’re losing it.” Buffy just smiles. It’s probably a bad sign, the way Buffy’s seemed happy for the last few minutes. Buffy rarely smiles, and she’s never happy. “You can tell me how much you love me later,” Faith says, tilting her head, trying to keep Buffy’s eyes locked on hers even as Buffy seems to be drifting away from consciousness. “Soon as we patch you up, alright? You can tell me all about it then.”

Buffy takes a dry, rattling breath and says, “Okay.”


End file.
